Rebel, Rebel
by ShouldHaveReadBetweenTheLines
Summary: AU. Badass Rachel Berry is new to McKinely school and determined to make a reputation for herself, but when she notices cheerleader and HBIC, Quinn Fabray her main priority changes slightly. Only something's not quite working to Rachel's advantage...
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Rebel, Rebel.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>AU. Badass Rachel Berry is new to McKinely high school and determined to make a reputation for herself, but when she notices cheerleader Quinn Fabray her main priority changes slightly. Only something's not quite working to Rachel's advantage. Not only is Quinn the hottest girl is school, but she's also the biggest bitch. But of course, being someone who never steps down from a fight, the badass sets about to try and become the only person in McKinley to have captured Quinn Fabray's heart.  
><strong>Pairings:<strong> Rachel/Quinn. Santana/Brittany. Sam/Mercedes. Mike/Tina. Mentions past relations between Sam/Quinn, Mercedes/Shane and Finn/Quinn.  
><strong>Rating: <strong>M.  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Sex, swearing, alcohol consumption and violence. (Well duh, it's a fic about badassness)

**A/N: **I already have this story planned out in my head, and the backgrounds of the characters are actually taken from the film Cemetery Junction by Ricky Gervais. Which is absolutely brilliant, I recommend it to you all!

**Happy reading!**

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><p><strong>Chapter One.<strong>

As she walks she holds her head up high: strutting down the corridor with a look of pure 'I'm better than you' and her ponytail swinging from side to side. People look up to see who's causing such a standstill in the usually bustling corridors, only to see it's the one and only Quinn Fabray and they hastily go back to whatever they were doing before. The head cheerleader heads for her locker and picks up her books for the next few lessons she has, but when she turns to leave she suddenly finds herself face-to-face with the open door of a locker next to hers. The locker, as Quinn knew, didn't belong to anybody. So why was it open? Quickly regaining her composure after the shock of almost head-butting a metal door, the blonde girl attempts to move on to her next lesson again. Only this time she's stopped when the open locker is suddenly closed with a loud bang by a girl Quinn had never seen before.

She is wearing ripped skinny jeans, a checked shirt and clunky looking boots. Her dark brunette hair falls down in natural curls over her shoulders, and the fringe of it frames sparkling brown eyes perfectly. She's wearing no makeup at all, and Quinn is shocked at how a girl could look so presentable in such an effortless way. As Quinn's eyes narrow at this thought, the new student's mouth breaks out into a small smirk.

'Hey,' the girl says, leaning against the locker with confidence. She looks Quinn up and down in a way Quinn is used to being looked at by guys like Puck and the rest of the football team. Only, this time, there's something different about the way she's looking at the blonde to how others look at her. Quinn is used to guys looking at her as if they're figuring out whether she'd be good in bed, but the way this brunette is looking at her is just...looking. Quinn frowns.

'Don't frown, princess.' The girl tells her, 'You'll get wrinkles, or whatever.'

'I'm sorry?' Quinn asks.

'What for?'

'What?'

'I'm sorry?'

'I...' Quinn stammers, before regaining herself once again: Quinn Fabray doesn't _stammer _at people! _People _stammer at Quinn Fabray! The blonde looks at the ground before chuckling to herself. 'Whatever, I don't have time for this.'

'You do look like the type to have a very busy schedule.' The new girl taunts.

Quinn rolls her eyes and put on her best, 'superior' look before replying, 'I do. And I'm now late for keeping up with that busy schedule.' She looks the small girl up and down once more, says, 'Bye Manhands.' and begins to leave.

'Catch you later, princess.' Quinn hears, and then the sound of the girl shutting her locking and walking off in the opposite direction, whistling to herself tunefully.

The cheerleader feels the unfamiliar coil of anger erupt in the pit of her stomach and she doesn't know why. How could she be frustrated by this new girl already? How could she be frustrated by the new girl _at all_? She didn't exactly look as if she was going to be the height of popularity, so why was she suddenly, dare she say it, _threatened_ by this new girl? She hasn't felt like this since Santana joined McKinley, and this tiny brunette isn't anything like Santana. She's...well, Quinn doesn't know what she is. This girl is unreadable, unexplainable, which is a trait in somebody Quinn has never experienced before. She doesn't know how to deal with it... Is that why she got so tongue tied back there?

_Seems like a reasonable explanation for it, _Quinn thinks to herself bitterly. Who would have imagined it? Quinn Fabray tongue-tied! The coil of anger swishes in the pit of her stomach again at this thought, and as the cheerleader takes her seat in Spanish she can't shake the feeling that this girl means trouble.

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><p>'Catch you later, princess.' Rachel lets her eyes drop down to the cheerleader's rear as the blonde girl stalks away from her. Grabbing her books and slamming her locker door, the small girl looks down at the map Principle Figgin's presented her with this morning and begins to find her way to her first class of the day. But she only manages to walk a few steps before bumping into the chest of a tall boy with a mohawk.<p>

'Whoa, watch where you're going!' The boy looks down at her but as soon as he realises it's a new girl he bumped into, his eyebrows go from a frown to a raise and his mouth breaks into a soft, but not sleazy, smile. 'Oh, you must be new here!'

He holds out his hand and Rachel takes it in her own. 'Yeah.' She nods. 'I'm Rachel. Rachel Berry.'

'Noah Puckerman. But most people call me Puck.' Their handshake breaks and Noah licks his lips quickly before asking, 'You how do you like McKinley?'

Rachel shrugs. 'I tend not to like school in general.'

The expression across Puck's face changed to surprise crossed with admiration. 'I haven't got myself a little badass on my hands, have I?'

'Why? You scared I'm gonna mislead you down the dark path of rebellion?' The brunette plays along with the joke with a wink.

Puck laughs a little, running a hand over his mohawk. 'So what's your first lesson?'

'Maths...' Rachel says, looking down at her map once again to remind herself and then frowns, noticing something. 'But it's in a science classroom... What? That doesn't make any sense?'

Noah laughs loudly before nodding. 'Yeah well, that's McKinley for you. This one girl, Brittany, gets confused every time we have this lesson... She walks in with her biology books and everything, but ends up having to go all the way back to her locker for her math stuff, and then thinks that she's no longer in a science lab and heads over to the other side of school towards the maths department... It's the highlight of the hour, honestly.'

The small girl laughs and the two continue to walk down the corridor, and as they do Rachel notices people beginning to part for them, all the while they shoot looks up at Noah's face and then look away quickly, as if anticipating that something horrible is going to happen if they stay looking for too long.

'You've obviously made quite an impression at this school.' Rachel makes the observation and the boy with the mohawk chuckles slightly.

'Well let's just say that a slushie to the face used to be my forte.'

'Ooh, how badass!' Rachel teases as a joke and the boy rolls his eyes.

'You'd know all about that now, wouldn't you?'

'Actually no,' the girl disagrees, 'I have never inflicted, nor have a wished to, any pain upon a fellow human being without being provoked.'

'_Without being provoked_.' Puck repeats, his eyebrows having risen far up his head at the news of this girl not being as innocent as she looks.

Rachel smirks but doesn't answer. 'Oh!' She says, noticing as sign on one of the doors, 'this is my classroom!'

'So it would seem.' Puck says quietly. 'Hey,' his face suddenly lights up, 'A friend of mine, Mike, is having a party this weekend and we're allowed to bring plus ones...' His voice suddenly picks up an English accent and bows slightly, 'Would you do me the honor of accompanying me, fair lady?'

'Why, I would be honored, good sir!' Rachel replies, curtsying towards him.

'Sweet.' Puck smiles sweetly for a moment before chucking Rachel under the chin and saying, 'See you around, Little Rebel.'

'Later Noah.' Rachel says, before entering the class to the unfamiliar yelling of a teacher:

'You are ten minutes late for this class! Who do you think you are exactly, young lady?'

'Um, my name is Rachel Berry...'

'And I suppose you think that's funny, do you?' The teacher asks. 'Sit down at once please, before I give you a detention!'

Rachel walks to the back of the classroom and pretends not to notice as people watch her pull out the chair and sit down. She checks the clock at the front of the classroom above the board and smirks to herself when she realises that, this time, it only took her half an hour to get into trouble.

_That's gotta be a record._

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><p><strong>AN: **I have no idea whether I should continue this or not, so reviews from you guys would really be appreciated for the first few chapters!

**Thanks for reading :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **So thank you guys so, so much for the reviews! I honestly don't think I've gotten so many for a first chapter before, I feel so honored...and slightly overwhelmed *swoon* But really, thanks a lot:) You guys a pretty swell!

**A/N: **Much more Faberry interaction in this chapter!

**Happy reading!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two.<strong>

As Quinn slides into her chair in English class she can't help but feel as if a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. Today had been a stressful day. Not only had that new girl seemed to show up around everyone corner Quinn turns, but she'd been given three lots of Spanish homework from Mr Schue, and he completely disregarded her thoughts on songs for sectionals during Glee... Oh, and _then_ she got roped into going to Mike's party on Saturday night by Santana and Brittany, and parties were something she did not deal with very well.

Apart from Glee, English class is Quinn's favourite part of the school day. She enjoys reading, she's been told she's good at writing, and becoming a journalist is something that has always been a lifelong ambition of hers. So when she sits down in her chair and begins to relax, all of her former worries seem to just disappear. That is, until now familiar short brunette enters the classroom and heads straight for the teacher's desk. Quinn watches her, but feigns a look of polite interest as to not let on her dislike for this girl, and hopes that she's lost or delivering a message or something. But when the blonde notices the teacher smile and gesture for Rachel to take a seat somewhere in the class, she knows that her hopes have not come true.

The cheerleader looks down so that the brunette doesn't notice her, or the empty seat next to her. But unfortunately, Quinn feels a shadow cast over her and looks up to see the new girl throwing herself down into the seat beside the blonde. Looking up, the blonde turns her head towards the brunette and make sure a passive expression is displaying on her face, but the new girl simply smirks in response and Quinn feels the once-sleeping coil of anger turn in her stomach once again.

'So how's it going, Princess?'

'Fine thanks.' The blonde doesn't bother returning the question.

'Cool,' the badass replies, 'I'm fine too by the way, thanks for asking.'

The HBIC puts on her sweetest smile. 'You're welcome.'

Rachel's eyebrow quirks in a way that reminds Quinn of a less sleazy Noah Puckerman, and she chuckles lightly at the blonde's feisty retaliation. She looks the girl over again like she had this morning: eyes sweeping over her light blonde hair that is swept back into a high ponytail, down along the ridge of her nose, over her mouth and around the curve of her chin. But her eyes stop when they come to rest upon her cheerleader's outfit.

'What's with the costume?' She taunts. 'Were we supposed to dress up today, or something?'

Quinn rolls her eyes and feels Rachel move in a bit closer to her, but not so much that she's invading her personal space. And then she whispers: 'Because I hate to break it to you, but if you are dressed up, I think you've got the wrong day...'

The blonde feels fire start up in her hands and to stop herself from jerking suddenly and inexplicably, she moves her chair away from the brunette slightly whilst commenting, 'You're not funny.'

Rachel shrugs. 'Can't blame a girl for trying.'

The blonde doesn't say anything and the brunette can think of nothing to start a conversation with, which is odd: Rachel Berry almost always knew how to start a conversation, whether it was with a cocky remark or some kind of playful insult, she _always _knew how to. So why can't she now?

Luckily, a conversation starter isn't required for much longer as the teacher gets up and begins to teach the lesson. And Rachel decides not to try and talk to Quinn whilst the teacher is talking, as the blonde is looking extremely interested in whatever it is the woman is going on about. So the brunette contents herself in watching the blonde watch the teacher. The way she leans forward ever so slightly, a faint line creases in her forehead as she frown in concentration and the way her lips purse because of how engrossed she is in the topic of the lesson. Rachel wonders how it must feel to be so interested in something that your surroundings just...disappear. She's never felt such a passion in anything before. Well...maybe one thing, but the brunette doesn't allow herself to think of it anymore.

The teacher sets work for them to do with the person they are sat next to and Quinn inwardly groans as she turns towards the brunette.

'So...' the blonde begins, hoping to edge Rachel in the direction of actually doing some work instead of just sitting there and not doing anything like she obviously has been doing for the past half an hour.

'So,' The badass repeats, 'going to that Mike guy's party on Saturday?'

'How do you know about that party?' Quinn blurts about before she can stop herself.

'Puck invited me this morning.' Rachel shrugs, a small smirk beginning to creep into her lips. 'You are going then, I take it?'

'What makes you say that?' The cheerleader tries to regain some of the composure she has left by looking down at her book and feigning and lack of interest in the topic at hand.

'Just your general body language.' The small girl replies before adding, 'I can read you like a book, you know.'

Quinn laughs a little at this comment but says nothing in return. 'So you're hanging around with Noah, huh?'

'If by "hanging around with" you mean we had one conversation, then yes.' Rachel replies.

Quinn opens her mouth to say something, but catches herself before she does. The brunette she's sat next to frowns a little and the blonde worries that she's let too much emotion play across her face, but before either girl can say anything else the teacher calls the class back to attention and all conversation between them is lost. The cheerleader spends the rest of the lesson zoning in and out of what is being taught because, for some reason, she is unable to concentrate. She can't help but feel she has to warn Rachel against hanging around with Noah. Quinn's mind is reeling, and she wouldn't be surprised if someone told her they can hear the coggs ticking inside her brain. Again, Quinn finds herself completely dumbfounded by the effect this new girl is having on her. First it was the stuttering and feeling tongue-tied, and now she feels she has to _protect _this girl? The blonde tries to shake the feelings out of her head. _As if she needs protecting anyway, _she tries to comfort herself. But still, something nags. But before she can sort everything out in her brain and come to a sensible conclusion about the cause of all of this confusion, the bell goes and she's picking up her things and putting them in her bag.

She feels Rachel slip past her and before she can stop herself: 'You shouldn't hang around with him, you know.'

'Who?'

'Noah.'

'Okay... Why not?' Anger rises up in Quinn at the amused look on the new girl's face.

'Because he's not...safe, I don't know.' The blonde frowns, looking down she does up the clasp on her bag. 'Just, I think you should be careful.'

The brunette laughs to herself slightly and the cheerleader feels that anger again. 'I think I can handle it, princess.' She says with a wink, 'But thanks for the warning.'

The girl turns towards the door and leaves the classroom. Quinn shakes her head and breathes deeply, trying to calm the angry fire making it's way through her veins, and tries to do the same.

But for some reason her feet feel like they're rooted to the floor.

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><p><strong>AN: **I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I kind of like the way it went! I wasn't actually planning on Quinn's need to protect Rachel coming up so soon in the story, but I guess I can go with it! Did you guys think it was too soon, or not? Review and let me know!

**Thanks for reading :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **So the reviews from you guys just keep getting better and better, thanks so much for taking the time out to write such kind words!

**A/N: **Woo, Mike's party!

**Happy reading!**

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><p><strong>Chapter three.<strong>

Rachel walks into the classroom and sits down in her usual seat. Casting a look around she realises that she's one of the first students in here and frowns a little, it was strange seeing a classroom so empty.

'Not used to being this early, are you Manhands?' The badass hears the voice from above her head and she looks up to see Quinn stood above her with an cold expression across her face.

The small girl shakes her head and replies, 'You know, you could think of a more endearing nickname for me.'

'Where would be the fun in that?'

'Well I'd certainly find a bit more fun than "manhands", that's for sure.'

'And what would you have me call you?'

'I don't know,' Rachel toys with the idea playfully for a bit before winking, 'Surprise me!'

'I suppose you want me to call you Little Rebel like Noah does.'

'How do you know that?'

'I heard you guys talking the other day.'

'Not spying on my conversations are you, Princess?' Rachel teases, nudging Quinn a little, a smirk plastered across her face. The blonde rolls her eyes and mutters something under her breath. 'I'm sorry, what did you say?'

'In your dreams.' The cheerleader repeated.

The brunette laughed before flirting, 'Actually no, in my dreams you tend to be wearing less clothes.'

'Ha,' Quinn says shortly, but doesn't continue the conversation.

'And what about you?' The small girl carries on the conversation as if she had said nothing out of the ordinary.

'What about me?'

'What do you dream about?' Rachel asks. 'Aside from me, obviously.'

'Obviously.' Quinn replies, 'and nothing, really.'

'Everyone dreams of something.' The brunette says earnestly, 'C'mon! I'm interested, tell me your dreams Quinn Fabray...'

'Uhhh,' The blonde stammers, momentarily lost because of the fact Rachel Berry had almost just _purred_ her name. 'Well yeah, I dream... But I can never remember them.'

'Boring.' The small girl yawns.

'Well what to do dream about, oh interesting one?' Quinn retorted snappily.

'I swear your nicknames are just getting crappier. And I already told you.'

The blonde rolls her eyes. 'Whatever, I don't care anyway.'

'Mm-hmm, suuure you don't.' The brunette winks a little at the cheerleader.

Quinn opens her mouth to answer back just as the teacher gets up and begins the lesson and she is unable to say anything, but unable to concentrate either. And she is relieved when the teacher sets them group work to do instead of asking the class questions Quinn is sure she wouldn't be able to answer.

'So, you looking forward to Mike's tonight?' Rachel asks as they set about analysing a poem called _The Archipelago of Kisses._

'Not particularly.' The taller girl responds truthfully.

'Why not?'

'I just don't like parties.'

'Because...?'

'No reason,' she replies quickly, 'just don't like them.'

'I think I know why.' The brunette says slowly and Quinn looks at her, a look of agonized desperation flits across her face momentarily. 'You're afraid of getting drunk and expressing your deep love for Rachel Barbra Berry.'

'Your middle name is Barba?' Rachel can see Quinn holding back a laugh.

'Named after the one and only Barbra Streisand.' The brunette pulls a mock-proud pose, looking slightly like the prince after he has rescued the princess.

'Really?' The blonde asks in a surprised tone.

'Well, no... I was actually named after my great grandma,' The Jewish girl explains, 'But I've always preferred to think that it was secretly because my destiny to turn out like Barbra Streisand has been written in the stars since my birth.'

Quinn laughs loudly at the joke and Rachel smirks a little at knowing she has made the girl laugh. She likes it, it's kind of honest and...raw. Like it doesn't usually happen very often, or not _properly _at least. And the brunette finds herself reveling in the moment of telling a joke funny enough to make Quinn Fabray laugh.

'C'mon then, your turn.' She nudges the girl a little.

'My turn to what?'

'Tell me your middle name!'

'Oh!' The blonde says, 'Oh, I uh...don't have one.'

The small girl eyes Quinn speculatively, 'You sure?'

'Yup.'

'You sure you're sure?'

'I'm sorry?'

'You sure you're sure you're sure?'

'Rachel, what're you talking about?'

'Goodness knows,' the girl replies and the blonde finds herself laughing once more. And again, the brunette finds herself basking in the sound of it.

* * *

><p>'Oh my God, you didn't tell me <em>he <em>was going to be here.' Quinn tells Santana as she enters Mike's house. The room they enter through is filled with balloons, streamers, food and alcohol, and music is blasting from a stereo in a corner. And stood next this stereo is Sam Evans.

'Well duh, he's on the football team. Of course Mike's invited him.'

'I don't want to be around him.'

'Then go into a different room, but don't you dare think you're bailing on us Quinn. It took almost everything we have to persuade you to come, and you haven't been out _so long_.'

'There's a reason for that.' Quinn mutters under her breath, but lets herself be pulled into the room just as well.

'Hey, Mike!' Brittana yells over at the Asian boy stood with Tina, Mercedes, Puck and Blaine.

'Hey guys, glad you could make it.' He beams around at them all, his eyes landing last of all on Quinn, 'Quinn! We were just wondering whether you were going to turn up, thanks for coming.'

'Thanks for inviting me, you seem to have had a pretty good turn out.'

'Yeah, I just hope my parents don't arrive home early tomorrow before I have time to clean up.' He smiles a little as the group laughs at his joke, then he looks over their heads at the door where they hear a shout: 'Chang, my man! There you are!'

Quinn looks around to see Finn, Puck and Artie walking through the door. Artie is already rolling his way up to them, Quinn notices he's put on a pair of different coloured racing gloves for the occasion, and Puck and Finn are trailing behind him, both carrying a crate of alcohol each.

'We thought we'd bring some, just in case you didn't have much.' Puck explains, before casting a look at the table full of spirits, beers and ciders, 'but clearly that isn't the case.'

He and Finn set down the crates outside to keep them warm and rejoin the group. 'Rachel was with us,' Puck looks over his shoulder, 'but we seem to have lost the little rebel somewhere...'

And right on queue the door swings open once again and in comes said rebel. Quinn realises she's sort of dressed up for the occasion: having straightened her hair instead of letting it curl, and she's wearing skinny jeans and a blazer instead of her usual baggy sweater and jeans.

'Baby girl!' Noah yells, beckoning the small girl over to the group. 'I believe you haven't met everyone yet, this is Mercedes, Tina, Kurt, Blaine, Brittany and Satan - uh, I mean Santana. Damn, forever getting you mixed up with that guy, aren't I San?'

'Oh, shut up twerp.' Santana makes to punch him in the stomach and he dodges quickly and places his arm around Rachel's shoulders in one smooth motion.

'Hey, go easy. I'm still recovering from surgery.'

'Oh please,' Mike butts in, 'you had eight stitches!'

'What happened?' Quinn finds herself asking before she can stop herself.

'Some drunk guy picked a fight with me whilst I was walking back home late one night, I was happy to just leave it because he was drunk, but then the guy smashed his beer bottle and slashed at me. The Doctor said I was lucky it didn't penetrate deeper-'

'You should've heard the joke he made about what else "penetrates" when she said that.' Rachel cuts in, making quotation marks in the air with her fingers around the word.

'Ew, please don't mention Puck's penis. Or penis at all, in fact.' Santana says, and Rachel looks down and notices her arm wrapped around the blonde girl named Brittany's waist.

'Yes, _anyway, _apparently it could've been severe if the guy had pressed a little bit harder.'

'You're a lucky guy, Puckerman.' Blaine remarks quietly and group nods.

'You call that lucky, but afterwards the woman at reception called after me down the hallway because I'd left my jacket, by accident of c_ourse_, and I ended up getting her number. A few days later the Puckersaurus worked his magic and bam! Added another one to his list of hot cougars.'

'You're a pig, I can't believe anybody has ever been attracted to you.' Santana walks away. 'I'm getting a drink, anyone want one?'

The majority of the group follow her to the drinks table and help themselves to the beverages laid out before them, leaving Kurt, Blaine, Rachel and Quinn left behind.

'So Rachel, I heard you moved her from Chicago.' Blaine begins the conversation casually.

'Yeah,' the brunette nods before asking, 'hey, where'd you hear that from? I've only been here a week.'

'Noah, duh. He talks about you all the time now, I think maybe he's hoping to add you to his list of hot Jews or something.'

Quinn finds herself trying to tune out the conversation, and the thought of Puck going anywhere near her with his hairy man hands, but she couldn't help but here the conversation that happened next.

'Ha,' Rachel shuffles her feet before continuing, 'well he'd have better luck adding me to the list of girls he will never have a chance in hell with, if you get what I mean.'

'Oh!' Kurt exclaims suddenly, understand something the cheerleader and his small boyfriend haven't cottoned on to, 'so you _are _- I mean, um...'

'As straight as a roundabout, baby.'

The blonde feels her eyes widen a little, and a strange feeling creeps into her head and something seems to become lodged in her stomach. Her brain seems to be spinning quickly in her skull and she worries fleetingly if Santana had slipped something into the coffee they had grabbed before coming here.

'I, um...I need a drink.' She needs to get out of that conversation, and fast.

'I'll come with you,' Blaine tells her.

He follows the taller girl and they head towards the waist-high table and Quinn picks up a wine cooler, snaps off the top with a bottle opener and takes a swig of the bottle. The liquid is welcomed by her body and after finishing the bottle she notices the strange feeling in her stomach is starting to quell and hastens for a second something a little stronger.  
>After picking up a vodka something or other, she finds her way to the couch through the throngs of people gathering left, right and centre, and heads to the leather sofa Mercedes and Tina are both sitting on. She sits next to them and places her drink on the coffee table in front. Then she looks up, and suddenly see something she wishes she hadn't. She watches as Rachel, stood against a wall, talks to some girl Quinn has never seen before. The girl is slim and red-haired, they are laughing together and talking easily, the small brunette cracks an obviously funny joke and the other girl laughs lightly and places her hand on Rachel's forearm flirtatiously. Then the Jewish girl reaches over and tucks a strand of red hair out of the girl's face.<br>Flames leap up in Quinn's gut, and she feels her face growing hot from the lava within, her stomach muscles contract and she feels her heart drop and raise into her throat at the same time. What was going _on._

'Quinn, are you all right?'

'Hmm?' The cheerleader takes a moment to process the question before answering, 'Oh! Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I just-' but luckily she is saved from having to answer, as Mike suddenly sits up rigid in his chair and cries, 'Drinking gaaaaaame!'

'Hell yeah!' Puck yells, coming in from the Kitchen ('I swear, that guy can here the words "drinking" and "game" from miles away,' Mercedes remarks quietly). 'What game?' But then he hears the song playing on the stereo at that moment and yells, 'Barbra Streisand!'

'I love this game!' Brittany chirps gleefully.

'Wait wait, what is the game?' Finn asks slowly.

'Every time the song says "Barbra Streisand" you've gotta take a shot.' Mike explains helpfully, whilst, perfectly on time, Artie rolls over with a tray of shot glasses on his knees and Santana bangs a bottle of tequila on the table.

'Count me in,' the both say, and then the rest of the group count themselves in too.

'Quinn?' Mike asks, looking at the blonde whilst holding out a tequila shot towards her. The cheerleader begins to opt out, but then catches sight of the red-haired girl picking an eyelash from Rachel's cheek and has a change of heart.

'Fine, why not?'

'Why not exactly!' Mike exclaims grinning from ear to ear before yelling at someone to restart the song. There is the usual chatter as the song begins, and a few already tipsy people start to sing along, and then all of a sudden the special words are being said and Quinn is tipping back her glass and the burning liquid is washing down her throat. A few people are coughing and choking at how strong the alcohol is while others are having their shot glasses refilled once more.

Quinn should have remembered just how many times the words "Barbra Streisand" are said in this song, and maybe she should start filling her glass halfway when she starts to feel the buzz, because before she realises she's laughing at everything along with Tina and Mercedes, simply because everything is just funny. I mean, when you look at everything, isn't the world just the funniest thing you've ever seen?

Looking around the blonde notices Artie has rolled up to Sugar (who is stood swaying to the music with her hands in the air, slurring out the words "Jesus, hollaaaa" every once in a while) and it trying to explain that he still has the full use of his penis, whilst Puck has mooched off to the corner and is hitting drunkenly on some poor junior who looks like she doesn't quite know how to respond, and when she looks to the left Quinn notices Santana is sat watching Brittany, who has managed to lose her t-shirt as the night went on, basically give her a lap dance whilst tears pour from the Latina's eyes as she cries loudly about having the 'hottest girlfriend ever'.

The cheerleader knocks back two more shots and finds half a beer, that probably belongs to someone else but who cares, and take a long drawn-out swig of the liquid inside. Pushing her hair out of her face, she looks around surveying more of the party's scene. Her eyes glaze past Finn asleep with his head in Mike's lap, and she notices something: Mercedes has disappeared from the side of her and is stood with Sam in the corner. They are laughing and joking, Mercedes reaches over and ruffles Sam's hair and he leans in, whispering something in her ear, and the girl giggles.

Quinn feels as if the air has been let out of her lungs and she can't breathe in again. She's been punched in the stomach and kicked in the back all at the same time. And it gets worse when she looks in the opposite direction and sees Rachel sat in an armchair, her new red-haired friend sat on her knee. The brunette was stroking the girl's leg slowly, tracing patterns on her inner thigh, her hand was almost disappearing up the girl's skirt.

And Quinn has to get out of there.

She stands up and the world spins around her, but determined to act like she's okay the blonde walks as strongly as possible in as straight a line she can manage. She walks through the living room, making sure not to look at Rachel as she passes her, and leaves through the double doors in the kitchen that lead out to the garden. The cold night air feels good against her flaming hot faces, and breathing it in helps to calm the nauseous feeling in her stomach. She makes her way down to the bottom of the garden and sits on the swing that she guesses is there because of Mike's younger brother and sister, she swings slightly and lets the wind brush past her through her hair. She's only out there a few minutes before the doors open and a broad shadow is cast onto the ground from the light of the party inside the house. It begins to walk towards Quinn in the darkness and the blonde watches as it approaches.

The person is almost right on top of her before she notices who it is.

'Sam?' She asks through the darkness.

'I saw you leaving the party, I...you didn't look too good. I thought I'd check you were okay.'

'Oh.' Quinn says, momentarily surprised at this act of compassion. The last time her and Sam had spoken she was pretty sure he had told her to go to hell. 'I'm fine,' her voice takes over a dismissive tone: she doesn't want to talk to him. And he shouldn't want to talk to her.

'Quinn, I know you. I know when you're not fine.' Sam says impulsively, it's clear he's been drinking too.

These words hit the cheerleader the wrong way, 'No, you don't. You're wrong, and I'm fine. Leave me alone.'

'Quinn-'

'No!' The blonde feels the anger she usually feels when drunk flare up inside of her, 'I said, leave me alone! I told you when we broke up: I don't want to speak to you. I don't want...I don't need you. Go away.'

The door of the house opens again and a slim figure walks towards the two stood by the swing. 'Quinn?'

'Rachel?'

'Rachel?'

'Sam?'

'My God, it's dark out here.' The brunette makes the joke but nobody laughs. 'Is everything all right?'

'Everything's fine.' Sam replies sharply. 'Quinn and I are just having words, it'd be good for you if you just kept out of it.'

'Ah, well you see I've never done anything that's good for me.'

'Maybe you should start.'

'Maybe you should drop the attitude.'

Quinn notices the amusement leaving Rachel's voice, and it takes on a serious tone the cheerleader has never heard before. Even in her drunken state she can tell something bad is going to happen.

'Sam, just go.'

'Why should I have to!'

'Because you're drunk.'

'So are you.'

'Guys, this isn't getting you anywhere. Sam, I think you should leave.'

'And what gives you the right to tell me what to do.'

'Since Mercedes asked me to come out here and check what the two of you were up to. She's not happy that you left her to check on Quinn, Sam. And I'd go in and make sure she's not angry if I were you.'

The quarterback takes a few steps towards the small badass, as if doubting her sincerity, and Quinn notices Rachel doesn't back down.

'Don't do anything stupid.' The brunette warns the broad-shouldered footballer in a threatening tone, and the cheerleader sat on the swing has the urge to put her hands over her eyes so she can't see what happens next. But what happens next isn't what Quinn is expecting. Instead of starting a fight with the small girl stood in front of him, he looks Rachel up and down and chuckles to himself lightly.

'You should try taking some of your own advice, little girl.' He tells her in a low voice before stepping back and walking away back into the house.

Quinn waits until he's safely inside before letting the tears spill out of her eyes and succumbing to the sobs wracking her body. She feels but doesn't see Rachel move next to her, and she feels the girl stop her from rocking the swing backwards and forwards gently.

'Are you okay?' She asks.

'Fine.' The blonde replies, but it's not convincing considering her voice wavers because of the lump in her throat. She feels the small girl place a hand on her shoulder and then, before she realises it, Rachel's arms are wrapped around her and she's crying softly into the girls shoulder. As Quinn's sobs begin to quieten she expects Rachel to let go of her, to go back to the red-haired girl inside and not speak to her for the rest of the party. But she doesn't: she stays with Quinn until the party is over, stroking her blonde hair and telling her everything would be okay.

And after a while Quinn begins to let herself believe that, eventually, maybe everything will be.

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><p><strong>AN: **I apologise for how long it took me to upload this chapter but i've had exams to revise for, a tumblr to keep running, a school to attend, meals to eat and this story just seemed to take the backseat in my mind. But it's updated now and I hope you enjoy it!

**A/N: **Just to brief you these next 6 weeks i've got 10 exams (i know, it's ridiculous) coming up, and so i'll be pretty busy revising for those. So if you don't hear anything from this story in the next 6 weeks, don't worry, all is not lost! I've just probably got my head stuck in some biology revision guide somewhere:)

**Thanks for reading:)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Before you say it, I know I've taken 5eva to update this. But I've finished my exams now and have literally 3 months of doing nothing, so this story should be updated pretty quickly now as long as I don't suffer from terminal writers block!

**A/N: **This is the next few days after the party, I hope you like it:)

**Happy reading!**

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><p><strong>Chapter four.<strong>

Quinn walks into school, her head held high. She casts her usual look of authority as she makes her way down the corridor towards her locker, making sure the feeling of relief, when she notices Rachel isn't anywhere around, doesn't change the expression across her face. She yanks open the door, pulling her bag off her shoulder she stuffs it into the confined space and then pulls out the books and stationary she needs; hugging them towards her body. Then she slams the metal door shut to reveal non other than Rachel Berry, the shock receives throughout her body results in a momentary lack of control over her facial features, meaning a look of utter bewilderment is etched across her face. This is something the small brunette notices straight away.

'Did I scare ya there, princess?' She winks.

Quinn's mind decides to choose this moment to allow the party from the night before last to play in slow motion in front of the blonde's very eyes. She remembers the drinking game, her argument with Sam, the rebel's almost-fight with the quarterback, and finally the red-haired girl touching Rachel's arm and flirting with her. The cheerleader scowls, and employs her first choice of a defense mechanism: insults.

'Shut up, dwarf.' Quinn snaps, and she begins to walk away down the corridor.

Rachel rolls her eyes and yells after her: 'At least your insults are getting better!'

The brunette then opens her locker and before she can even take notice of the stuff flying towards her from inside of it: she feels herself being splattered head to foot in red paint. There are shocked cries of innocent passers-by who have also been covered in the liquid, shouts of laughter from those who observed the ordeal without being harmed, and a murmur of conversation as people who witnessed it tell those who have only just got there. Rachel doesn't feel embarrassed, and she knows she's not gone red because she never does, all her mind can think about is whether Quinn Fabray has just seen her being drenched in paint. She wipes it away so she can see carefully and efficiently, making sure not to get any of it in her eyes, and she scans around the scene.

She eventually locates the cheerleader stood at the end of the corridor, watching her with a vacant expression across her face. When she locks eyes with her, the blonde simply raises her eyebrows in a skeptical manner and disappears around the corner, leaving the brunette standing alone in the middle of the hallway, with no one to help her get herself or her stuff to the bathroom.

* * *

><p>'Hey, Rach!' The brunette hears Noah's voice calling after her down the corridor and she spins around, waiting for him to catch up with her. 'You all right? I heard about the prank Sam pulled on you.'<p>

'Sam?' Surprise creeping into the girl's tone a little. 'He did this?'

'Well duh,' Puck looks amused, 'who did you think it was?'

'I thought it was...never mind.'

'Oh, you didn't think _she_ would actually pull something like that did you?' The boy with the mohawk chuckles a little to himself, 'Queen Quinn Fabray barely lowers herself to level of talking to people that aren't on the cheerleading squad, and she certainly doesn't get her hands dirty pranking people.'

'Right,' the Jewish girl looks down at the ground and smile bitterly, 'figures. I can't believe Lady Lips Evans did this to me!'

'Me neither, baby girl, me neither.' Puck slings his arm around his friend, and this time not in a sleazy way. This was more to comfort and, even, to protect Rachel. The girl is both insulted yet flattered at the same time that Noah could think she needed protecting. She could protect herself.

'I'm so mad, this paint is never going to come out of my hair!'

'Since when did you care about your hair?' The tall boy's eyebrow raises slightly.

'Since some douchebag decided to put paint in it!' Rachel retorts angrily.

'Okay, okay!' Puck turns, places himself in front of Rachel so she has to stop walking and puts both of his hand on her shoulders, bending down so his face is at her level. The brunette thinks, at first, he's going to kiss her and gets ready to dodge away from him. But then she notices a sly grin creep it's way onto his face as he says, 'But you know, as the saying goes: "don't get mad, get even".'

* * *

><p>The preparations are all set. Rachel and Noah are in their set positions: Rachel down the corridor to the left of the boys' changing rooms, and Puck in that changing room with the rest of the football team. Their target, Sam Evans, is in sight. Noah's instructions for the first ten minutes, which were drummed into him by a very tense Rachel Berry, are this: 'stay cool, act normal, and don't give any of this away!'. He promised he wouldn't, and he keeps his promise wonderfully. Engaging in the usual 'locker room' banter, teasing Finn and laughing at Mike, he doesn't even so much as look in Sam's direction. And, of course, the blonde suspects nothing. He even begins to boast about his prank on Rachel, chirping away about the 'stupid look on her face' and how she wouldn't dare mess with him now.<p>

Then he asks something, 'Have any of you guys seen my locker key? I can't find it anywhere...'

The rest of the team tell him that, no, they haven't seen his locker key. And one of the boys suggests that he just leaves his stuff in the middle of the room, but Sam says he doesn't want to risk anybody stealing it.

'You can put your stuff in my locker,' Noah suggests, his voice taking on the tone of polite helpfulness.

'Really? Thanks man.' The quarterback loads his stuff into the tall of the twos locker, and Puck does all he can to suppress a wicked smile.

Coach Beiste enters and orders them all out onto the football pitch, and this is where things started to get tricky. Persuading Coach Beiste to do something small is difficult, but to persuade her to let go of the key chain which held the keys to her office, her car and her house was another level. But Puck employs his best acting skills and his greatest confidence for the job.

'Hey Coach, why don't you let us lock up?' He says, casually. 'We'll get the helmets and the bag of footballs, carry everything down and I'll lock up.'

'Tell me, Puckerman, why would I do that?'

'Because then you'd have time to go and fix yourself a cup of coffee from the staff room before coming out to meet us.' This is the best Puck had been able to come up with for a persuasion tactic all week. (He and Rachel decided to leave it a week before pranking Sam back so as to let him comfort himself in the knowledge that nothing had happened in a week, and so nobody must be planning a retaliation against his attack on Rachel.) And he knows that the idea of Beiste being able to get a coffee sucked, and he isn't surprised when she looks unimpressed, so he does what Noah Puckerman does best: he improvises.

'I mean, I know how hard things have been on you lately. And I just wanted to do something to let you know that we're here for you, and we support you, even if it is only a cup of coffee now and again.' He looks round at the rest of the team, their eyebrows are raised but they nod in agreement all the same, Puck knew they wouldn't let him down - even if they have no idea what's going on.

Coach Beiste softens and hands the keys over. 'You boys are my pride an' joy, you know that?'

'Thanks Coach.' Puck replies, smiling at the woman softly. And the rest of the team murmur things in response. Beiste claps Noah on the shoulder and leaves the locker room: leaving the boys alone. Finn picks up the bag full of footballs and Mike picks up the box full of helmets, and the team begins to leave. The boy with the mohawk makes sure he is a little bit behind everyone, and nobody sees anything wrong with this considering he is the one with the keys, and so needs to be last to lock the door after them all.

'Oh!' Noah feigns surprise, 'Coach Beiste gave me the wrong set of keys. I better just run to the staff room and the the others from her, I'll meet you out their when I'm done.'

Nobody replies anything significant and the tall boy runs off down the corridor and to the left of the boys' changing room, where he is met by a seemingly cool and collected Rachel Berry.

'Took you long enough,' she quips as he hands over the keys to the changing room and his own locker key.

'Hey! I got you them, didn't it?'

'You did, thank you.' Rachel mimics blowing him a kiss and then says, 'you better get off, before people notice us standing around looking shifty together.'

Puck ruffles her hair, turns and walks away. The brunette watches him reach the end of the corridor before setting off herself. She heads towards the changing rooms, clutching the keys securely in her small hands, and when she reaches the door she realises something that makes her gut pang incredibly painfully: she doesn't know which key opens the door. The key chain is full, there are around eleven, maybe twelve keys hanging off it. Her gut pangs again, even more painfully, as she realises the only way to do this is by process of elimination. Sighing to herself she sets about testing the keys. She tries a silver one, then a larger silver one, then a golden one, a brass one, small brass one, a brass one that is around the same size as the first silver one she tries, until eventually, the second golden one she tries fits in the door. She doesn't say anything but grins in achievement, twisting the key in the door and letting herself into the room.

The smell of stale sweat and awful men's deodorant mixed together reaches her nose and she grimaces, but plows on with her task all the same. Looking around she finally locates the locker she needs, and she knows it's Noah's because it says 'The locker belongs to the Puckasaurus, use and you're dead meat' on it. She locks the door behind her, making sure nobody can get in a catch her in the odd act of breaking into the boys' changing rooms, and walks over to the locker, opens it and takes out the gym bag and the coat she knows to be Sam Evans'. And although she would really rather not have to undergo such a task, the small Jewish girl opens up the bag and checks through its contents. Everything is there: tshirt, jumper, trousers, socks and, mostly importantly: pants. She picks his coat from where she left it on the bench in the room, and stuffs it into the bag, slinging it over her shoulder when she's done. Lastly, she places a small white envelope in Puck's locker where Sam's bag used to reside, and closes the locker door.

She heads out of the changing room, locking it behind her. And as she leaves the corridor she drops the keys on the floor, and kicks them slightly underneath an old display board, a place where both she and Puck had agreed on leaving the keys in the planning of this prank. Then as quickly as she can she heads to food court, knowing that lunch is what everybody has next, and leaves Sam's bag under one of the tables. Then she heads to sit at another table not to close to that one, and waits for the bell to ring and for the fun to commence.

* * *

><p>'Hey man, you got my stuff?' Sam asks, walking over to where Puck is stood. The Jewish boy nods, and turns to open up his locker.<p>

'It...it's not here.' Noah can already feel his acting skills improving to a professional standard.

'What?' The sound echoes around the empty changing room. The rest of the team have already left for lunch, but Sam was notorious for taking the longest shower in the history of showers, and Puck waited for him to hand him his stuff. Or so Sam thought that was the plan.

'Your bag,' The dark haired boy turns to the blonde with the small white envelope his hands, 'it's not here. But this is...'

Both the boys are frowning as Sam takes the letter from Puck's hand, opens it up and read what it written on the sheet of paper inside:

_If you want your clothes back you better do everything this letter tells you to, okay? Okay.  
>Your instructions are simple:<br>Enclosed in this letter is a rough map of the school, and you will find on this map that there is a red line tracing a path throughout the school that you must take. This path will lead you to your clothes.  
>Do not. under any circumstances, take any shortcuts, I will know and you will not get back your clothes.<br>Do not speak to anybody, including your friends, girlfriend or a teacher. If they question your actions, ignore them, if they tell you to put some clothes on this instant, ignore them. In short: just don't speak to them.  
>Do not ask anybody to undertake this quest for you, it your task to complete alone.<br>Walk, don't run. I want everybody to see you.  
>You must complete this task completely naked. No towels, no borrowing clothes of anyone, nothing. I will allow you to cover up your 'manhood' but that it only because I'm sure people would rather not see your penis, especially considering they're selling hotdogs in the canteen today.<em>

_Thank you for your cooperation, I hope to see you shortly._

'What's it say?'

'I have to...walk around the school naked.'

Noah lets out a shrill laugh that he's been struggling to keep in for the past ten minutes. 'Wow, this pranker is good. Almost as good as me.'

Sam doesn't say anything, he merely sits down on the wooden bench in his towel and contemplates his impending doom.

'You're gonna have to do it, bro.' Puck explains. 'You can't sit in here all day, if Coach Beiste walks in and finds you she'll have a fit and make you do this anyway, you know what she's like.' He points towards the letter the blonde is still holding.

'I know-' Sam's voice is quiet, so the end of his sentence is completely drowned out by the sound of the school bell ringing to notify people it is lunchtime.

'I'd do it now.' The darker of the two tells him sharply. 'It's lunch, you've got less people in the corridors and more people outside or in the canteen. And by the sounds of this letter, this person probably _won't _give you back your clothes if you don't do it this lunch.'

'Yeah,' Sam stands up and sighs, bracing himself for what will happen when he leaves the safety of this room. He thinks about the embarrassment, people's faces, Mercedes' face in particular, and his stomach clamps. But then he shakes himself loose. He's an Evans. He can do this. Puck doesn't look as the boy removes his towel from around his bottom-half, places one of his hands in front of the things he likes to keep private, the other one is used for clenching the map of the path he needs to take, and walks towards the door.

'Good luck, man. You'll need it.'

'Thanks Puck.' Sam gulps, opens the door and the noise of a bustling school at dinner time hits him like a brick wall. His stomach drops, and he takes a deep breath. Stepping out into the corridor he checks the map, turns right and heads straight for the football pitch. Stepping outside the blinding sunlight hits him and he squints, shielding his eyes with the map. He keeps checking and checking it, but the directions remain the same. He has to walk straight across the football field. Girding his loins he takes it one step at a time until his bare feet reach the soft, trodden grass. People begin to notice him now. The people playing football stop, and watch him as he makes his way across the grass, through their group, and those sitting on the bleachers stop chatting about where they went on the weekend and what they're doing after school and begin to nudge each other, pointing at the unwilling streaker as he reaches the end of the football pitch and makes his way down back to the main bit of the school.

The noise hits Sam then, roaring choruses of people laughing at his expense, and he tries to not let himself blush crimson. He doesn't know whether he has, he's unable to feel his face due to the amount of adrenaline pumping its way through his veins. As he makes his way down the corridor everything goes silent for a while, and then people there too begin to snigger, and then chuckles, and then laugh and almost scream with amusement. The naked blonde shakes his head and carries on going. The rest of his journey is pretty much the same. First quiet, then shouts and cries of laughter. Eventually he become used to it, and he begins to get the feeling back in his limbs again. That is, until his is on the last leg of his journey, he's almost reached the food court, which is marked with a huge red 'X' on the map, and suddenly Mercedes is stood at the end of the corridor, his last corridor to go through, with a look of utter terror marked across her face.

'Sam?' She cries, 'Sam? What the hell are you doing?'

He shakes his head and walks on past her, ignoring her demands that he come back this instant and tell her what on earth he was playing at. He opens the last door he needs to go through and enters the food court, he looks around, underneath all of the tables. Trying not to feel shunned when the people sat at the tables he peers under ask him to leave them alone, to go away, to get the hell away from them. He has checked under four of the tables before he realises where his bag must be. And, of course, it's obviously going to be underneath the table at the highest point of the food court. It wasn't going to be anywhere else. He walks up the steps, ignoring the jibes and insults thrown at him by freshman, juniors and seniors alike, and reaches the table at the top. Ignoring the protests of those sat at it, who are trying to eat their lunch, the quarterback searches under the table and grabs the bag he knows to be his. Using it now to cover up his area, the boy descends the steps again and walks towards the door. But not before someone shouts something louder than anyone else:

'That'll teach you to cover people in red paint, Evans!'

Sam turns round swiftly, speculating the place where the shout came from, and sees Rachel Berry and Noah Puckerman sat together, with only the proudest of smiles etched across their faces.

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><p><strong>AN: **So what do you guys think? I had so much fun writing this chapter, so I hope you guys just as much fun reading it! Review and tell me what you think, and I'll try and update it again as quick as I possibly can!  
><strong>AN: **Also thank you for all the people who wished me good luck on my exams, I think they went as okay as they could go, so I'll just have to cross my fingers and wait for the end results now:)

**Thanks for reading :D**


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